Brazen (15 page)

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Authors: Bobbi Smith

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #Historical, #General

BOOK: Brazen
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"She'll be waiting for you," Jack promised.

Casey stood with her father on the porch and watched
the two men ride away.

"You know, since you're going to the Circle D for dinner, you're probably going to want to get cleaned up and
wear a dress tonight," Jack advised.

"I had a feeling you were going to mention that, but I'll
worry about it later. Right now, I've got more work to do,"
she told him as she escaped back down to the stable.

It was three o'clock before Casey returned to the house
to start getting ready. Her father was gone, out with the
men somewhere, and she was glad. She needed some
alone time before she had to face Michael again.

After heating water, she bathed and washed her hair.
As she stood before her small mirror combing out her
hair, Casey wondered how she had come to this. She
would be marrying Michael in a few short weeks. She kept
hoping she would wake up soon and find out that this
was all a bad dream that her father hadn't really been
sick and the ranch was not really in debt.

But that wasn't going to happen.

She knew it was time for her to accept what she
couldn't change.

To save the Bar T, she was going to have to become
Mrs. Michael Donovan.

Casey started listing the things about Michael that irritated her: He was arrogant, and he was annoying, and he
was

Then the memory of his kiss returned.

Casey told herself that there hadn't been anything particularly wonderful about Michael's kiss, but even as she
denied his appeal, she couldn't forget the shiver that had
gone through her when she'd been in his arms.

"I only shivered because I was wet," Casey told her
mirror image.

Then she turned away and got dressed.

A short time later when Jack came back up to the
house to look in on her, he found her dressed and ready
to go, waiting in the parlor.

"You look mighty pretty," he complimented her.

Thanks, Pa." She turned and smiled uneasily at him.
"But I really wish I didn't have to do this. I can't imagine
who in the world decided women should have to wear
all these clothes. It had to be somebody who wanted to
torture us."

Jack couldn't help laughing. "For all that you feel like
you're being tortured, you do look lovely wearing a dress.
Michael will be pleased."

"I just hope he doesn't expect me to start dressing like
this all the time."

Before Jack could say anything more, they heard a buckboard driving up. He took a quick look outside and
saw Michael drawing to a stop in front.

The day had passed far too quickly for Michael, and the
trip to pick up Casey had gone by even faster. He wasn't
exactly dreading the evening to come, but he wasn't looking forward to it either. He just wasn't quite sure how to
handle his intended bride.

For a moment after he'd thrown her in the water the
other day, they'd actually laughed together, but the light
mood hadn't lasted. Theirs would be a marriage of necessity, and they were going to have to make the best of
it.

His mother had reminded him before he'd left the
house that he should treat Casey like a lady tonight. He
was bound and determined to do his best as long as
she cooperated and let him.

Michael climbed down from the buckboard and went
up the steps to knock on the door.

"Come on in, Michael," Jack said as he opened the
door for him.

"Is Casey ready?"

"Just about."

Michael stepped inside as Casey came out of the parlor.
He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her in a
dress. The one she was wearing wasn't fashionable, but
it was a definite improvement over her work clothes.

"Nice dress, Casey," he told her. He meant it as a compliment.

"Don't get used to it," she retorted.

Casey paused to give her father a kiss on the cheek,
and then walked ahead of Michael out of the house.

"Good night, Jack," Michael said before following her
to the buckboard.

Michael was glad that he was right there behind her,
for just as Casey started to climb into the buckboard on
her own, her skirt got in the way. She lost her balance
and was falling backward when he put his hands at her
waist to catch her.

Casey tensed at his touch. She was forced to lean on
him as he lifted her easily the rest of the way up to the
bench.

"Are you all right?" he asked as she sat down.

"I'm fine," she ground out, humiliated that she hadn't
even been able to climb into the buckboard on her own
wearing a skirt.

Michael climbed up beside her and took the reins.
"Ready?"

"As I'll ever be," she said.

Casey lifted a hand to wave good-bye to her father as
they drove away. She only wished they were returning
home instead of leaving. The evening before her was going to be a long one.

 

"How come you're out here eating with us tonight?" Tom
asked Nick as he joined the ranch hands at the table in
the bunkhouse.

"Aunt Elizabeth thought it would be a good idea for
Michael to have some time alone with Casey," Nick told
them. "So I decided to come down here with you."

"I wonder how Michael's going to feel about being all
alone with his little fiancee?" Harry grinned at the
thought.

"Maybe we should go up to the house and eat there.
Michael might need us," Tom suggested to the laughter
of the other men.

"Why do you think he'll need our help?" Nick asked.

"You've seen Casey," one of the other hands spoke up.
"She dresses like a man and acts like one, too."

"What she wears doesn't matter," Nick said, feeling the need to defend her. "I watched her break a horse over at
the Bar T earlier today, and I was impressed. She's very
talented."

"Womenfolk shouldn't be breaking horses," another
man put in.

"Why not, if they're good at it?" Nick countered.

"It doesn't matter if she's good or not," the hand continued. "She's a girl. She should act like one, but Casey
Turner don't. Why, there was one day not too long ago
when she ran one of our men off the Bar T.He was hunting strays, and she chased him off. He was damned lucky
she didn't shoot him."

"You wouldn't have thought anything of it if she'd been
a man."

"But she ain't."

"That's right," Tom added. "Michael is going to have his
hands full having to take over for his pa and marry
Casey, too. It will be interesting to see how they end up."

"Hey I got an idea," Harry said. "Anybody want to
make a wager on how long this marriage is gonna last?"

"I'll bet ten dollars they never get to the altar!" one hand
called out, and laughter roared through the bunkhouse.

"Ten dollars says it'll last two weeks and then she'll be
back with her pa," another joined in.

"What about you, Nick? You want to place a little wager?" Tom looked at him.

Nick's expression was thoughtful. "I'll bet fifty dollars
Michael and Casey go through with the wedding and their
marriage lasts."

"Fifty?" Tom repeated, impressed by Nick's daring.
"You know something we don't know?"

"You're sounding real confident, city boy," Harry said.

"That's right. I am confident. I think you're underestimating Casey."

"We'll see."

The ranch hands all made their wagers. Only time
would tell who won the pot.

Casey wondered if she could possibly be any more miserable. It had been bad enough that she'd gotten tangled
up in her skirt and Michael had had to help her, but now,
sitting so close to him, every time they hit a bump she
was thrown against him. She was wondering if fate could
think of any other way to torture her today. She hoped
not.

"How is your father doing?" Casey asked, struggling to
make conversation as they drove toward the Circle D.

"As well as can be expected," Michael answered. "He
seems to be getting a little of his strength back."

"That's good. Have you heard anything new from Sheriff Montgomery?"

"Not a word, and we're even offering a reward for information. It's frustrating knowing that whoever it was
who tried to kill Pa is still out there."

"Maybe the sheriff will come up with something soon."

"I hope so. What about your father? How is he feeling?
He looked like he was doing better."

"He needs more rest now than he used to, but he's
trying to get back to normal."

They fell silent again.

Michael was trying to figure out how to give Casey the
engagement ring. He wasn't sure if he should just hand
her the box when they got to the house or if he should
try to do something romantic.

The moment he thought "romantic" he dismissed the
idea.

This was Casey not Karen.

Michael realized he'd never seriously thought about
marriage before. The few times it had crossed his mind,
he'd always imagined he would be marrying a beautiful
woman who loved him as much as he loved her. He'd
never considered his marriage would be an arrangement
like his upcoming wedding to Casey. He wondered how
they were ever going to make it work.

Casey was mentally assessing her situation as they
turned up the main road to the house. She was wearing
a dress and having dinner with the Donovans. The evening ahead looked pretty torturous to her. She resigned
herself to the fact that there was no way out. She was
doing what she had to do to save the Bar T.

"Well, here we are," Michael said as he stopped the
buckboard in front of the house.

When Casey started to get up so she could climb down,
he grabbed her arm to stop her.

"Wait a minute. I'll help you. I know you don't want
me to, but I'd hate for you to land on your face in the dirt
in front of my mother." He nodded toward the house,
where Casey could see Elizabeth coming outside.

Michael leaped out of the buckboard and strode
around to her side.

Casey was irritated at being considered helpless. She
stood up, ready to get down on her own no matter what
he said. But, Michael was there in front of her. He put his
hands at her waist to help her. Their bodies made contact
as he lifted her down, and she felt a jolt of awareness that
startled her. Casey looked up at him from beneath lowered lashes to see if he'd been as affected as she had
been, but he was already looking toward his mother. He
obviously hadn't felt a thing. Casey couldn't decide if she
was glad he'd reacted that way or disappointed.

"Why, Cassandra, you look lovely," Elizabeth was saying as Michael put a hand on her elbow and escorted her
up the steps to the porch.

"Thank you, Mrs. Donovan."

"Please, call me Elizabeth."

"All right Elizabeth," Casey repeated with a little
smile.

"Dinner is almost ready. Come on into the dining
room." She ushered her future daughter-in-law inside and
down the hall.

As they stepped into the dining room, Casey noticed
immediately that there were only two places set at the
table.

"Isn't Michael going to eat with us?" she asked.

Elizabeth couldn't help chuckling at her observation.
"You and Michael will be dining here together. I'm going
to have dinner with Frank upstairs."

"Oh "The evening ahead suddenly loomed even
worse in Casey's estimation.

"This will give the two of you some time alone. You've
hardly had time to talk since all this happened."

Casey wanted to tell her that she already knew everything-she wanted to know about Michael, but she controlled the urge.

"What about Nick?" Casey asked, trying not to let her
desperation sound in her voice.

"He's eating out at the bunkhouse tonight," Elizabeth
explained. "So you'll be all by yourselves. Enjoy."

"Oh, we will," Michael said, grinning. He knew exactly
what Casey was thinking, and he had to admit he was
enjoying her discomfort.

"Before I leave you, Cassandra - I did want to let you
know that Reverend Harris sent word he can meet with
us tomorrow afternoon around two o'clock in his office
at the church. Is that time all right with you?"

"That will be fine. I'll meet you there."

"I'm looking forward to it." Impulsively, Elizabeth gave
her a quick hug. "Let me check on dinner for you." She
went into the kitchen to see how the cook was doing.

Casey looked at Michael, not quite sure what to do
next.

"Hungry?" he asked.

"I'm starving."

"Let's eat," he suggested, walking ahead of her to the
table and pulling out a chair for her.

Casey knew what he was doing, but she wondered why
he was doing it. He didn't have to treat her nicely or try to impress her. She had come for dinner. Nothing more.

"Thanks." She sat down, staring at the fine china, crystal
glasses and silverware spread out on the linen tablecloth.

Michael sat across the table from her.

"Do you eat like this all the time?" she asked.

"Only on special occasions like tonight." Remembering what his mother had told him about treating her like
a lady, he went on, "This is our celebration."

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